The GENIUS in DISGUISE. Mary Leapor Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T127827 p. 413 K101776.000 Leapor, Mrs. (Mary), 1722-1746. Poems upon several occasions: By Mrs. Leapor of Brackley in Northamptonshire. London printed: and sold by J. Roberts 1748 pp. 131-135. 15,[5],282p. ; 8⁰.

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The GENIUS in DISGUISE . AS I Fidelia and my Sire , Sat musing o'er a smoky Fire , We heard a Knocking at the Door , Rise , something is the Matter sure . The little Turret seem'd to quake , The Shelves , the Chairs and Tables shake ; Fidelia cries , O , what's the Matter ? And Mira's Teeth began to chatter : The frighted Door ( as what could choose ) Flew open ( pray believe the Muse ) A hollow Voice for Entrance calls , And soon — Although the dirty Walls Were stain'd with Ignorance and Sin , Yet Mira's Genius ventur'd in , Not in a Cherub's Form enshrin'd , Nor in the shape of human kind : But Locks and Hinges round him glow , In Figure like a neat Buroe ; Like Brambles in a thorny Gap Stood Mira's Hair beneath her Cap : Her frighted Senses gone astray , She bent her Knees in act to pray ; But the presuming Priest drew near , As void of Piety as Fear , And by its Side undaunted stood , And wou'd persuade us it was Wood : With Rev'rence then we did presume To place him in the little Room ; The Priest excluded with the rest , The Stranger Mira thus address'd , ( Tho' shaking with Surprise and Fear ) ' O say what Power sent thee here , ' Not Fortune , for I ne'er cou'd see ' As yet her Favours bent on me : ' Nor Chance although we often find ' She governs most of human kind ; ' Or can , against the Maid's Desire , ' Throw Madam's Caudle in the Fire ; ' Can light a Candle , or can miss , ' She never brought a thing like this . This said , pale Mira gazing stood , And thus reply'd the seeming Wood ; ' Canst thou behold me and not find ' The Picture of the Giver's Mind ? ' Behold the Lock and shining Key , ' That ne'er its Mistress shall betray , ' Not blemish'd with a Spot of Rust , ' And always faithful to its Trust . ' The rest may be to you consign'd , ' For in this narrow Space you'll find ' No Emblem large enough to fit ' Her Bounty , Judgment , and her Wit . ' But , Mira , since I have begun , ' The Thread of my Discourse shall run , ' Explaining how I am to you ' A Monitor and Table too . ' My hollow Spaces you may fill ' With all your Verses good and ill ; ' One small one for your Wit may do , ' But then your Faults will take up two . ' And from the rest I pray exclude ' One sacred Place for Gratitude : ' And what our Patron yours and mine ' Shall to my trusty Care consign , ' For those lov'd Strangers I'll secure ' The Closet with its tiny Door . ' And now I've prattl'd long , my Dear , ' Yet you are list'ning still to hear , ' Expecting that I shou'd supply ' At once Advice and Prophesy ; ' But that's not right for me nor you ' To dive so deeply — tho' , 'tis true , ' Without Divining I can see ' You'll ne'er deserve the Gift of me : ' More wou'd you know — why , may be then ' Within these Mornings nine or ten , ' Propitious Jet may tsudge before , ' And lead his Mistress to your Door ; ' And when the Sun ( whose distant Wheels ' But faintly warm the icy Fields ) ' Shall gild your Cot with brighter Ray , ' I hope to see her ev'ry Day . ' But turn away thy stedfast Eyes , ' That stare so ghastly with Surprise : ' Go seek your Pillow and be still , ' And dream of me or what you will . ' This said ( which Mira hop'd was true ) ' The Lid shut up , and cries Adieu . " Then gave a Crack , and spoke no more , And all was silent as before .